Are you starting to see a pattern here?
This evening, Little E was sitting on Big E's bed, "reading" a library book. Naked. The bath was filling up with warm, sudsy water, ready to wash off the boys' camp grub. We were all winding down, thankfully.
Big E jumped into the tub first. That kid totally appreciates a steamy bath.
I asked Little E to get in the tub a few times, but the library book was too captivating. He couldn't pull himself away.
LITTLE E! TUB! NOW!
I must have startled the little guy. He slammed the library book shut. Right on his private parts.
He immediately started silent screaming and I knew this was a serious injury. My dreams of an insane amount of grandchildren died there in Big E's bedroom.
I ran over and scooped him up.
MY P*NIS HURTS!
Over and over again. He was hysterical. I began to get teary eyed. I felt bad that I had startled him into injuring himself. He clung to me and cried.
I couldn't even really sympathize. I wished Mr. Yoy was here to help.
After a few minutes of rocking him in my arms, he finally calmed down.
I'm still recovering.
Also, don't ever check out William and the Night Train from the Atlanta Public Library System.
* Can't actually spell out the whole word without getting an influx of Russian spammers sending me weird stuff.